Page 13 of Flameborne: Chosen (Emberquell Academy #1)

The men here were the Commanders of the Wings—the Captains and Lieutenants of the three legions of Furyknights, Flyer, Flame, and Fang.

They’d make the decisions and communicate them to those under their authority.

But this structured hierarchy was also reflected in each squad.

When these men made decisions, they’d take them to the Wing Captains, and Wing Lieutenants, who in turn would lead the specialists and sergeants under them.

The reflection was so stark that I knew however these men chose to address this problem would filter down through the ranks below them.

Without hesitation the men in this room turned discussion to solve the problem of how to assist Bren and Akhane in assimilating, and what would need to be adjusted from our usual process with a male Flameborne.

With pride and some relief, I watched the frowns and impatient tones turn from complaints or protests to authority and solutions.

We all knew we were in positions of leadership for a reason.

We didn’t have time to bemoan the fact that a familiar path had taken us to an unexpected destination.

We needed to focus our energy on finding our way through the unknown terrain.

“…it just isn’t practical to house her in the barracks. If she’s poor, she’s likely been sheltered. She’s probably a virgin, and even if she had brothers, no young woman of any quality is equipped to suddenly live with fifty men.”

“We could give her one of the groom’s cottages?”

“No,” Olve growled. “It would look as if she were being given special treatment. If she’s to have any chance to truly integrate, they must see her working her way.”

I nodded. “I agree on that point, but for her to be housed with the others puts her in a position of disadvantage they don’t have.

One woman among fifty men? Hundreds? Even in the smallest barrack she’s sharing a room with ten, and a wing with eighty.

It’s not going to work. She needs to experience the same deprivations, but without putting her in any kind of danger. ”

“Our men should not be dangerous to a woman,” Feroz, the retired Commander, and my mentor, growled.

I met his eyes evenly. “I agree. But we’re dealing with young, competitive men under a great deal of pressure. The addition of a female to that is tinder to a flame.”

Mont cursed again. “Even keeping her safe, doesn’t keep her safe.

Our men have been taught since they sucked their mother’s tits that women are for protecting, and tumbling.

Her role in their lives will contradict everything they’ve known both in the Dragon Keep, and outside it.

Even with appropriate boundaries, heads will constantly turn—either to enjoy the sight of her, or to watch after her.

The distraction alone…” He threw up his hands and cursed again.

Around and around we went, every decision we made only leading to further questions, until even my head spun.

When Mont insisted that she should be forced to do the trials out of order so her weakness was evident and she would fail quickly—and thus, be safe—I put a stop to the conversation.

“We will not work against a Flameborne,” I growled.

“We trust the Dragons, and the God who leads them. She will not be harmed—or coddled. She’ll be tested, just like the others.

She’s here for a reason, and we’ll find it.

But before we can do that, she must be acknowledged, and housed, and we’ll need to choose her squad. ”

The tension in the room ratcheted up a notch, but no one argued.

I kept my tone firm and calm. “I’ll speak with the Wing Leaders.

Once we know where she’s going, we’ll identify a servant’s room, or something that keeps her safe and dry, but offers no more comfort than the barracks.

After she’s acknowledged, we’ll set some ground rules to keep her comfortable while she trains among the men.

You have the day. Write down your suggestions and bring them to my office after the dinner hour.

We’ll meet and agree then, and communicate any new rules to the ranks tomorrow.

Thank you for answering the call, brothers.

Pray for me—for all of us. It appears the Furyknight world has shifted on its axis today. ”

The men huffed and nodded and grumbled, but there were no further protests.

I stood, intending to go back to the stables and see if the servants had brought her clothing before I met with the Wing Leaders.

But Feroz, my mentor, and predecessor as Commander—though he’d been retired over a decade—ambled casually to my side as the others readied to leave.

“A woman Flameborne,” he muttered. I didn’t miss the glint in his eye that spoke of at least a measure of amusement. “Glad it didn’t happen under my watch.”

I snorted. “I’m sure you are. Don’t get too comfortable though. Remember, if I’m killed, your my ranked successor.”

Feroz suddenly clutched his back and pretended to be injured, though the man still walked as straight as me.

“I will inform the King of my aged decline and make certain he appoints a new successor immediately.” When I rolled my eyes, he smiled and straightened, but didn’t move away, and didn’t speak, just eyed the other men as they gathered their things and left in ones and twos.

Clearly, he wanted to speak without an audience.

When the door closed behind the last of the Lieutenants, I turned to him with brows high in question.

“You need to call for Accord,” he said without preamble.

I frowned. “This isn’t a formal—”

“Trust me, Donavyn. The girl is a novelty, a stress, and a revolution. This is precisely the kind of sliver that seems like little more than an annoyance—until the day it festers and suddenly infection rides your blood, and parts of the body that weren’t even touched grow ill.

” He shook his head, his expression grim.

“A woman among the Furyknights? I never thought I’d see the day. ”

“She’s only Flameborne. She still has to pass the trials. And while I’d love to see her do that, you and I both know the chances are miniscule.”

“And yet, it could take months for her to fail—and in the meantime, everything you’ve built, everything you have to be proud of, could be pulled down around you.”

Feroz wasn’t generally a dramatic man. I arched one brow. “One girl, Sir? You believe my entire legacy could be affected by one girl?”

“Not affected, Donavyn—destroyed.”

“That seems a bit over—”

“Not because she’s bad, or because she fails.

But because her presence will challenge every boundary of discipline and ambition we’ve established in centuries of the Furyknight training.

Why do we keep female servants purely to the kitchens and Threadhall?

Why do we not hire female staff to teach the histories, or strategy? ”

“Because they’re a distraction,” I growled.

Feroz nodded. “And now you won’t just have a distraction along the edges.

She’ll be right in their midst. With no other females to be seen.

Every instinct these men have, every sense we’re beating into them, will be heightened by her—the desire to protect, the desire to compete, the desire to prove themselves.

Unless unity and discipline are established from this moment, her mere presence will erode all of it with time. ”

I blew out a breath. I wasn’t sure it was as dire as he described, but he was a wise and experienced man. I couldn’t deny that the potential was there for Bren to cause great disruption.

“I can’t remove her from the ranks—not until she disqualifies herself.”

“No, you can’t,” he agreed. “Which is why, when she’s acknowledged, when her squad is identified, when the rules to govern them around her are outlined, you must present a united front.

The Officers must find Accord—and the ranks must see it.

You can leave no room for questions in their minds that some of them may have more access to her, or that breaking small rules would be overlooked.

They must be certain that their adherence to this new landscape is crucial and upheld by every powerful man in the Furyknights. ”

I sighed. “You’re right. I’ll speak to the others tonight when they bring me their suggestions for rules. We’ll make certain when she’s acknowledged, we announce that we’re in Accord.”

“Mont will be a problem,” he said.

“I know.”

“And you can’t let the Wing Leaders fight for or against her—you need to identify the strongest of the squads, the most experienced. Those with the most integrity and self-discipline.”

I frowned. “She’s an untried Flameborne on a too-young dragon. We can’t throw her in with the most skilled. She’ll never keep up.”

“You need a brotherhood around her who are mature enough to make judgment calls—their assessments of her will determine the path of her training. Put her among boys and she’ll not only be scrambling, but likely pregnant within the year.”

Our eyes locked.

“I’ll think on it,” I said.

Feroz nodded, but then his lips pulled up on one side. “Better think fast. It’s time for your next meeting.”

I turned quickly to look at the clock and cursed. If I didn’t hurry, I’d be late.

Bidding Feroz farewell, I stormed out of the room, my heels ringing on the floor as I called for Kgosi .

‘…and I need your insight into which of the squads is the most experienced and steady—who has the maturity to have her near and treat her as a sister, or an ally, not a target for their lust—or rage?’

Kgosi snorted as I reached him outside, turning his great body to follow me back to the stables. I was walking so fast I almost ran.

‘Are human men capable of denying themselves lust for the flesh?’

I eyed him from the side. Kgosi was well past mating age—generally dragons began the search for a mate at around a century. Yet my dragon had remained alone for over two hundred years.

“I suppose you’re right,” I muttered as I trotted next to him. “I doubt I could have remained unattached for this long without you. But that only begs the question, how do I ask hundreds of men to keep their eyes down and hands at their sides when they don’t have dragons who’ve vowed celibacy?”

Kgosi snorted. ‘I’m not avowed to remain unmated.’

I blinked and stopped. “But, years ago you said—”

‘I said that the Creator has never revealed a mate for my future, and so until He does, I will remain unattached.’

I frowned. “Kgosi, you told me I couldn’t marry.

” It had been a blow to me in those early years.

The death of a dream—though an ill-fated one.

We humans couldn’t expect fated matebonds the way dragons did.

We usually chose our mates as best we could.

Spoke vows and built marriages and families.

But Furyknights rarely married, and those who did faced a life-long battle for their loyalty and time.

Most women weren’t happy to take a husband they could see only in the short hours between his shifts—when he was already exhausted—and going weeks or months with no contact at all when he was training or fighting elsewhere.

Not to mention, sharing his heart with his dragon to whom he was Divinely bonded, and who was in his head, and never not present in some way.

Kgosi didn’t meet my eye, but he snorted smoke from his nose. ‘I told you that we shared a destiny.’

“And you said yours was to remain alone!”

If Kgosi were a human, he would have shrugged. ‘If the Creator has not revealed a path, I will not assume to walk it.’

I was stunned. My already overloaded mind spinning.

But I didn’t have time to hash this out with him now.

And chances were, he was only challenging these preconceptions of mine to keep me thinking and open-minded.

He’d done it countless times before—making me question assumptions and look at the world in new ways.

“Well, regardless, it doesn’t matter. I have no time or energy left for a wife anyway,” I muttered, though that pinch was back in my chest that I hadn’t felt in ten years.

“If there was a woman for me, she has long married elsewhere,” I muttered.

“Besides, with a female Flameborne and war on the horizon, taking a wife now would be foolish .”

‘Only a fool would tell God what He cannot do,’ Kgosi growled .

I shot him a look from the side—but before I could come up with a suitably cutting response, a dragon’s shriek rose from the stables.

Kgosi’s head snapped up and he snorted again—smoke and steam erupting from his nostrils. I went still, listening—then frowned when I heard the low, rumbling hum of an agitated crowd.

‘The girls,’ was all Kgosi sent, then flowed forward in that impossibly quick serpentine of which the dragons were capable but rarely demonstrated outside of mortal risk.

“Kgosi! Wait!”

But my dragon was gone. Whipping into the stable building, he disappeared from sight in seconds.

I tore after him, through the eastern doors into the oddly almost-empty center aisle, around the corner and down the north wing towards the main entrance, only to find my dragon, head low and wings high, roaring at a milling, noisy crowd that had gathered outside Akhane’s stable.